


Upon further consideration, Nice decides to briefly postpone her revenge.

by Barkour



Category: Baccano!
Genre: 1920s, Canon - Anime, F/M, Pre-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-14
Updated: 2010-10-14
Packaged: 2017-10-12 16:23:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/126797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barkour/pseuds/Barkour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Who did this to you?" she said. "You tell me who did this, and I'll go take care of them right now."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Upon further consideration, Nice decides to briefly postpone her revenge.

Down by the small, dirty inlet that ran along the foot of a small, dirty hill, some kid sat on his heels. Huh, thought Nice. She looked again.

"Jacuzzi!" she said. "Whatcha doing down there?"

He looked up, startled, then quickly turned his face away. The sun was bright overhead, full in the sky and summer hot. Jacuzzi had blood on his face, eye swollen like someone'd been pounding on him. Like he'd been crying again.

Nice came trampling down the hill, loud enough and fast enough he looked up again and didn't bother trying to hide his face. The corner of his mouth was split, and there was dirt scratched into his skin.

"Nice," he said. He held his hands up. "Please don't be angry, Nice."

"Who did this to you?" she said. Her fingernails were too sharp, ragged where she'd gnawed at them; they cut into her palms. "You tell me who did this, and I'll go take care of them right now."

"Nobody," he said, "nobody did this, it's nothing, Nice, really--"

"It don't look like nothing!" she snapped.

There were pale smudges in the dirt thick on his cheek, lines where he'd cried. Blood had dried under his eye, along the curve of bone.

"You tell me who did this to you. I'm gonna go talk to them."

"No!" said Jacuzzi. He caught her wrist. His fingers were rough on the back of her hand, but his grip was gentle; his fingers fluttered, light on her wrist. "Nice, you don't have to talk to anybody, it's okay, see?" He smiled, a trembling smile that wrinkled the skin around his eyes.

"Why're you trying to protect them--"

"I'm not trying to protect them," he said. He pulled at her hand.

Nice crouched beside him in the grass, yellow from the sun. "Then why don't you tell me what creep did this to you?"

He looked down to their hands. His brow was furrowed, lined with worry. "I just don't want anyone to get hurt, that's all."

She squeezed his hand. "I'm not gonna hurt 'em, Jacuzzi," she said. She leaned against him, her shoulder to his. "I'm just gonna talk to 'em. And if they try anything, well." She shrugged.

Jacuzzi turned to her, his face crumpled at the edges, his eyes wet. "I don't want you to go to jail, Nice. You gotta promise you won't blow them up."

She bumped his shoulder and grinned at him. "They can't put me away if they don't see me," she said. She lifted her chin and shook back her hair. "I've been working on a real nice bomb; the fuse goes extra slow, so it takes longer to blow. I could be in and out of there in two seconds and they'd never know."

"That sounds really neat, Nice!" said Jacuzzi. "You gotta show me sometime." He leaned into her, smiling so his whole face lit up.

Nice's stomach cramped up. She cleared her throat. "It's pretty swell," she allowed. "I'm still working on it, though. It's not finished yet."

Jacuzzi looked down at his feet, so Nice looked down at hers. Her Mary Janes were worn out, too small. Jacuzzi's shoes were too big, the leather dulled with dirt, but the stitching was solid, the heel secure. Least the goons who'd beat on him hadn't stripped those off him. Probably they'd seen that tattoo of his and thought something stupid. Her chest ached.

His fingers tightened between hers. "Nice," he said. "You won't go after those guys, will you?"

She rested her cheek on her knee, so she could frown at him. "Why're you so set on letting these guys go?"

He turned, mirroring her, his clean cheek flat on his knee. She wanted to trace the bruises darkening his face with her hand, but her fingers were dirty, her nails too sharp.

"I don't want you to get hurt, too," he said.

The sun was too hot on her face.

"You idiot," she said. "You're the one who's hurt."

He smiled at her, his eyes closing. Sweat beaded his brow, sticky in the dust that had dried there. Nice sat up again and reached out to cover his brow with her free hand. She brushed her thumb through the hair dark at his temple. Jacuzzi colored under her hand, the red rising under his summer, street tan.

Later, she thought, she'd get Nick and some of his friends, and they'd go have a nice, long talk with whoever it was who was stupid enough to shake Jacuzzi down. He'd tell her sooner or later. She'd find out.

His skin was warm under her hand, warm and slick. He smiled at her around her wrist, his brown eyes shining.

"Hey," she said. "You wanna get some ice?"


End file.
